


White Fish

by DrakeAnnDisorderly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Job, Car!Kink, Classic Cars, Louden Swain - Freeform, M/M, Masturbation, Mechanophilia, One Shot, Other, RACK - Freeform, Song Lyrics, Wincest - Freeform, Wincest Writers Weekly Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 12:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12433176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrakeAnnDisorderly/pseuds/DrakeAnnDisorderly
Summary: Sam needed something to fiddle with while Dean slept in. He found a shack on the old property. Dean finds him not long after, jamming out to some tunes under a really big fish.





	White Fish

   Breakfast beer in hand, Dean searched for Sam in the dust-covered garage below the room in the barn style house they had crashed in late last night. The workshop was sunlit through broken windows. It was a soft eerie; a picture lost in time. Everything looked as if it hadn’t been touched in a few years. Pushing hand tools and magazines around on the bench as he passed, Dean heard music coming from outside and strolled out under the bright sky. The music got significantly louder and he followed it.

 

 _This house is a mess_  
_I’m in the neighborhood of loneliness_  
_Ridin’ the wave  
_ _We are the side that makes sense of this_

 

   A weather beaten lean-to was set a bit further back in to the brush. The music continued to grow as Dean walked along the dirt packed tire ruts. As he rounded the front he froze.

 

 _Livin’ alone even when you’re ridin’ next to me_  
_Takin’ the show_  
_I’m not a dime store refugee  
_

 

   The front end of a long forgotten 1973 spinnaker barracuda lay out before him on an old jack accompanied by pair of long denim clad legs stretched out underneath. An unattached arm reached blindly for tools and tapped along with the songs melody. Dean watched.

 

 _And it feels so good_  
_Right now_

 

   His breath quickened watching Sam’s hips sway with the song playing. Noticing the heat building in his own jeans, Dean plotted quickly. There was no way he was letting this chance slip away. The music was so loud, Sam never heard him shuffle up the walk and hit single-repeat on the CD player next one of the front tires.

 

 _Now I got a problem with electricity_  
_What if it blows_  
_And I lose what I’ve come to be  
_

 

   Sam continued to sing along with the tune, tapping a socket wrench against something metal.

 

 _How will I know what my life_  
_Has had in store for me_  
_How will I know I’m just a shot away?_  
_Just a shot awa_ y

 

   Dean placed a sturdy foot between Sam’s legs a few inches out from the bumper, a rough hand on the hood, and gently turned the handle on the jack letting the pressure trickle out. The car began to lower.

 

 _And it feels so good right now_  
_Could it be this good right now?_

 

   Sam immediately began to shimmy his way out from under the car in a panic and met the immovable force of Dean’s boot pressing in to his crotch.

 

 _How could something so good_  
_Be so bad for you?_

 

   Sam struggled as the car pinned him in place. Dean tightened the handle again to hold the jack at that height.

 

 _This house is a mess_  
_I’m in the neighborhood of loneliness_  
_Ridin’ the wave_

 

   Convinced he was not going to escape his confines, Dean removed his boot from Sam’s crotch and knelt in front of the car; running a rigid thumb across the sun burnt white bumper. His own already undone, “Sweetheart, you are so hot... who left you here all alone?” He began undoing Sam’s belt and jeans with the other hand.

 

 _We are the side that makes sense of this_  
_Livin’ alone even when you’re ridin’ next to me_  
_Takin’ the show_  
_I’m not a dime store refugee_

 

   Sam could only grunt in resistance as Dean ripped his jeans down past his knees leaving his ass naked to the sand and creeping weeds.

 

 _And it feels so good right now_  
_Could it be this good right now?_

 

   Gripping back on to the car as he knelt closer, Dean worked and curled his fingers in and out of the aged grill. He could hear over the music, Sam’s grunts quicken now knowing what was happening and giving in to the moment, as he began to stroke his baby brother’s cock with one hand, teasing his quickly leaking head with a hungry tongue.

 

 _And it feels so good_  
_And it feels so good_  
_Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah_  
_Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah  
_

 

   His nostrils buried deep in the sent of his brother’s excitement, one hand down his own jeans stroking in rhythm. Dean took everything Sam pushed down his throat as they both came and the song played again. Dean never once unlaced his fingers from that pretty grill.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Weekly Word: Song
> 
> This came about after Louden Swain did their 20th Anniversary show on StageIt today.  
> Song used is one of my favorites. Be Me from the Eskimo album.


End file.
